Thursday, I contacted the Peoria Civic Center to complain about suddenly higher beer prices. Friday, I was told the place likely will cut the cost of brew anytime now.

Boom, and boom. You're welcome.

OK, OK — I can't claim total credit here. I have a sidekick, Suds Boy, who pushed me to confront the mighty Civic Center and stand up for local brewski fans.

Plus, an army of Civic Center regulars — in between burps, I'm sure — let loose a loud cry for fairness. I envision these heroes as kind of like The Justice League of America, but armed with only coolers and koozies.

What's this brewhaha all about?

Unbeknownst to me, trouble had been brewing for weeks. I hadn't been to a Civic Center event since June. But on Tuesday night, I went to the theater to see a ukulele concert. Yeah, I do things like that. And though I'm no expert on ukulele music, it seems to pretty much demand to be accompanied by a cup of suds, right?

So, I went to the concession stand to order a couple of beers for a friend and me. As I was handed two 16-ounce beers — a domestic brand, in metal bottles — I was stunned to hear the cost:

"That'll be $15, please."

What-what? That's, like, $7.50 each. That's, like, nuts.

I realize you pay through the nose for concessions at sports and concert venues. But $7.50? There are a good number of pro sports teams that don't charge nearly that much. And at $7.50, a cold one just doesn't go down as deliciously smooth.

The next day, I got a message from a pal, Bill Molleck. A long time ago, we used to play rugby against each other. Nowadays we just drink beer together. The latter is much easier on the old bones, I got to tell you.

Anyway, Molleck felt moved to write me about a grave injustice he'd encountered at the Bradley game:

"It was $7.50 for a bottle of Bud Light. I did not buy one. Even a Bud man has his limits."

Strong words, indeed. Off-hours, Molleck without a beer is akin to other people without clothes. It's shocking to see.

Anyway, he continued with his Jefferson-like argument, "They were $6, I believe, last year. A $1.50 increase per bottle seems extreme."

I'd thought the same thing. But I figured that was just my cheapness creeping up. Yet emboldened by the tenacious Molleck — from now on, call him Suds Boy — I made my fateful move with the Civic Center.

I'd like to say I donned my Beer Avenger cape, jumped atop my trusty Clydesdale and galloped over for battle, the background swelling with my jaunty theme song: "The Beer Avenger/ he ain't no stranger/ to nasty danger/ And he's a hottie." It doesn't all rhyme, but you get the idea.

Page 2 of 2 - Anyway, my approach against the Civic Center wasn't quite thunderous and Thor-like: I sent an email. Essentially, I asked, "What's up with the beer prices?"

Megan Pedigo, assistant director of marketing, replied, "Let me look into that. Stay tuned!" Stay tuned? Wow, just like in the old "Batman" TV show. Same bat-time, same bat-channel.

Awhile later, she sent me the best possible news (aside from "free beer"): "Customers should see some changes coming soon."

Whoa! Even The Flash doesn't get results that fast.

I called Jim Wetherington, general manager for the Civic Center. He said that some concessions prices had risen recently, and he'd heard some grousing. Beyond that, he didn't want to discuss the matter further, not just yet.

However, little birds — yes, The Beer Avengers has little birds who help him — say beer prices likely are to drop soon at the Civic Center. I don't know how much, or if we're talking about only the 16-ounce bottles. But a price cut is looming, if all works out as expected.

Before you ask, I'm unsure if other concessions — like pretzels and whatnot — might undergo a price cut, too. Look, The Beer Avenger can do only so much. Maybe someone should contact The Pretzel Avenger or something.

Regardless, Suds Boy was elated to hear the news: "The power of American beer drinkers has no limits! Good work, Phil!"

Aw, shucks. It's all in a day's work. The Beer Avenger is just doing his job: preserving truth, justice and the American way — along with semi-affordable malt beverages.